Dedicating Unsuccessfulness......

As like always, life is moving at its snail pace, so there was nothing much to write upon….as for studies, I always plan them and then re-schedule those plans. Winter has finally crept in and if one ventures out early morning, the air can be heard whispering its arrival.

Last week Z came and went for some shopping, when you are in a materialistic world, it matters how you dress, so I decided to update my winter wardrobe, less for myself and more for as to make it visible to others! May be tomorrow I will go and buy a new mobile phone, which will depend on the amount of salary credited in my bank account…so perhaps I would be better able to express my unsuccessfulness with pictures, resembling my moods.

I think winter seasons arrive globally, so there is no steam in any political & economical news to muse upon, also WTO Hong Kong meet has already been doomed to be a failure so whatever be the results, it will hardly matter.

As about ‘T’….I once again message her today…only to realize that she will never respond, than I got perturbed and thought upon, Expectations…..We all are cursed by this word….in each and every form, can Expectations be synchronized with Hope, if Yes than ok…we cant help it, but if not than is it like the appendix in human body….which does not serves any function but more so often becomes an irritant…….finally I wrote something…..and dedicated this to ‘T’……for I decided that I will never think to think about her….Unsuccessful, once again? Yes, No….maybe

Ek vyarth koshish
ya shunya ka vistar,
Shabdon ki feri
ya sapnon ka junjal,

Vicharon ki paribhasha
ya chanchalta ki pukar,
Kya namkaran karoun
sab saachein bekar,

Na radha ki aankhon si
virah ki pyaas,
Na shabri ke beron si
isme mithas,

Sirf, kagaz ki zammen par
Sarkande ke hul se prayaas,
Yehi hai meri kavita
Ek vyarth koshish
aur ek asafal lekhakar.

The Battle'

This is a description of the situation in my room, which one may find relevant to contemporary International scenario….


This all started in the month of September, when I shifted to my new room. The previous guy living here was as an IAS aspirant, with geography as an optional, so once I moved in…. I had to tear all world maps and motivational posters, first one because world maps make me feel so small and give me ideas about being a nomad, the second one, I don’t need to explain…..so the only thing which remained was Lord Ganesh picture, which I dared not removed as I am superstitious (though a self proclaimed non-believer!) hence like Jews, I rearranged the new Israel


Now since I am a working bachelor, society does not expect me to live in hygienic conditions, so I followed the unsaid rule and very soon cig buds, half eaten biscuits, crumpled papers, unwashed socks and so on, adorned my room. I created a breeding ground myself just like Nehru did for Kashmir or US for China


As a result very soon, I find that my loneliness was invaded by mosquitoes, since I am an ardent newspaper reader, I knew that they are health hazards and one like me with a lean body frame and thus poor immune system, cannot bore the burden of being affected by Dengue, Malaria, Elephantis and jeopardize both my physical and monetary wealth.

From here started the war…….


The Sanctions
Immediately considering the gravity of the situation, I realized that my maid was unduly paid (as she comes early in morning, when I the nocturnal living being goes off to sleep and she is hence asked to come next day, which never comes). So for her now it was either “You are with Me or Them”….she diligently used the broom and gave the room a phenyl bath (that smell still in my nose!), books were dusted, clothes rearranged. However like the UN sanctions it turned out to be a dud affair and a Volcker report is soon expected….


The First wave
Now the situation was already getting out of hand, so arsenals were put into use, first ‘All Out’ was pressed into services (I never expected it to jump and eat mosquitoes though but least like Air force 1, it should have prepared the ground)….its futility became more prominent with each passing day, also I forgot to switch it off so it was getting costly…


Traditional Warfare
As suggested, I restored to our age old mosquito coils, now this worked out and soon they were kissing the grounds….I pronounced from my bed “ I Got Them” but unfortunately I was celebrating the victory too early…..they became accustomed ( just like humans, the spirit to survival can be seen best here, universal truth! ) and soon they were resilient, taking refuge in corners, behind clothes, books (just like Talibanis).



Chemical warfare
Now I bought a spray, I am using it now for the past two weeks, making every corner of my room a Fajullah…..ambushing them here & there and hoping if they survive and get out they get marred by the Coil effect’



Many civilians (ants) have died in this war, I can see their funeral procession every night…they still walk in line….some move astray…like lost kids. I hope mosquitos don’t follow Islam (no offence) and I do not face Jehad’…..and I also believe with onset of winters they become lull, like Kashmiri militants.

In turn, I have also been affected both monetarily and health wise, I am smoking twice, once my nicotine sticks and then the coil smoke’ ( but the coil pack says its of no affect to humans, hoping it doesn’t turn out like the American intelligence report on WMD’s ....as they call it “sexed up”………….

Existence......

It has been more than 18 hours and I haven’t slept, I don’t know may be I am getting insomniac…. But than why sleep is deluding my eyes? perhaps I am not working hard, I have heard that a person who works hard gets a sound sleep, so I do not deserve it.


Sometimes I feel, my whole existence is like the early morning dew, which glitters only to be vaporized by the sun and than it becomes water vapour…than clouds…finally rain and this cycle continues on….is this an unsuccessful existence or a just one, I can’t decide but it is too tiring…..I would rather like to be “Air”…unbounded, omnipresent, sometimes mild and furious, bringing hope and destruction, different names according to different traits, to be precise, the prototype I will choose is, to be ‘Wind’…..yes I want to be Wind……deciding my own course…..free at will,one step down..three steps ahead, a force to reckon with....but is it really or just the Wind’ thinks so…who knows!

I have nothing to say
my pen is dry today,
Thoughts, I bargained them all
feelings, huh they just crawl,
I have lost all sense
like traveler in forest dense,
I have nothing to say
my pen is dry today,

Neither I have the Rama’s will
nor I enjoy the Krishna’s thrill,
Enlightment is out of question here
nirvana is what I fear !
I have nothing to say
my pen is dry today,

I called her name aloud
did she heard this sound,
My hollowness screamed
sweetheart, it’s a futile dream,
I realized, I have nothing to say
my pen is dry today,

I tried to wipe thy tear
eyes said, It’s a drought here!
Smile suddenly crossed my lips
like sand trickles down quick,
Again, I have nothing to say
my pen is dry today,

He from their above
who pull all string fine,
Wonders, why this boy tries
for when he is destined to make just ‘Unsuccessfully Yours’ rhyme,
And hence, I have nothing to say
my pen is dry today…….

Delusive Introspection....

I am getting old, with each passing day, I think I am getting old not only in physical sense but emotionally too, I think it happens with each one of us….our souls are like machines, coz we do not use them (in some cases at all) so it get rusted and than its quality depreciates…Why this happens? Machines can be oiled, dusted and can be made re-ready to use, but can a rusted soul be oiled…may be not or like 'T' says….Yes, No…Maybe!

The reason I am contemplating this is, That everyday when I go to office, on every next red light as the car stops, kids standing on the pavements rush, some with pirated books in hands, some with a cloth in hand and diligently start wiping the dust of the ‘luxury’, ‘family’ car or ‘SUV’….not all the time they get rewarded or should I say paid? I don’t know whose and what dust they try to wipe -
Dust from our souls
Dust from the vehicle
Dust from their fate

When I say this, I remember that In NCERT books, on the front page there is “Gandhiji’s Talisman” …I don’t remember it word to word but its zest was that ‘your every action should be determined, that how it will affect the fate of millions deprived and whenever you face a dilemma, always try to remember the face of the poorest guy and than think, how this action is going to help him’ , when I see these kids and think I cannot justify my actions….I think I should make a difference but how, can a unsuccessful person like me, who has not the ability to make a difference to his own life and can make a difference in some one’s else…….or am I too running away like all?

May be this school poem, which I use to recite with a few hundred in morning prayers, where the whole idea was to sing it best and than as I moved up…than to wind it up early, now holds some meaning……

It is better to light, just one little candle
than to stumble in the dark,
Better far than those.....
all you need is just a tiny spark,

If we all say a prayer that the world would be free
The wonderful dawn of a new day will see,
and from just one little candle
What a bright world this would be.....


And about ‘T’…….. “Kahan ho yaar? Bahut ho gaya….plz ek baar mil to lo”

Sapless Introspection'

My excursion over the continuous stretch of monotonous life, continues on without any major hindrances….in other words each day passes more predictable than the other. Sometimes I wonder that we all yearn for changes and keep on cursing ourselves in one way or the other and when such change occurs than we think about the past and try to relive in its glory! I am not sure whether this happens with me or the whole human society is plagued by this desire for change….. but whatever……Changes are always welcome.

As usual I went to DaryaGanj on Sunday and among the plethora of books tried to search something relevant and than robotically ended up buying 03 different books, of which none was required….well Firdausi’s ‘ShahNama’, Coelho’s ‘Alchemist’ and ‘Best Hindi stories of ’96. Well I always go to DaryaGanj in hope that one day I would stumble upon some rare book or a personal diary…..the search is still on’ unsuccessfully….

Another thing I noticed that even how much our English story writers try but they never will be able to depict the poverty and the intricateness of our society….the way Hindi writers bring it forth….it seems so genuine or perhaps coz of language I can relate it better but than I always feel the nostalgia that is required to linger on after reading a heart-wrenching story can be found only in Hindi short stories. May be I was too obsessed with Hindi in my 10+2.


I am still planning to buy a new mobile phone for me and the choices are between MottoRazer and Nokia 6681 rather the bigger choice is that how to stop myself from buying this and better spending it else. Also I have switched over my newspaper so I believe that now I would be politically more aware since I do not enjoy the luxury of a television. There is a lot of questioning that I have to do with myself about what I am looking for, where I am heading to and what not…but let these questions be frozen as I move on, though monotonously………how unsuccessful!

‘T’……….I have nothing to say about her….all I can remember about her is...

• Her nose
  
• Her smile
  
• Her eyes
  
• I still visualize her in that blue dress
  
• Her rashes that spring on from nowhere around her ear
  
• She being uncomfortable
  
• The frustration on her face...

May be I am asking for too much……more than I deserve……..but Can't I?

Saturated Dreams'

Well.....past few days have been pretty boring as usual......all I can notice that I have started sleeping a lot....office work also has been pretty boring, as the leftover in my team always talk of resigning.....and me as a new entrant just wonder on!

What else....yeah the last two days I dont know why....while returning back home....I am talking of 'Ghosts' with my drivers....now today's driver was more exciting....now I dont know whether he seriously tried to scare me....or was he genuinely like that...but he stopped car in the middle, applied brakes for nothing and even switched off the head lights while he was narrating me a story.....The story was...

" An employee had a late shift which ended on midnight....unfortunately it was he and the driver alone while returning ....as they were moving on, they started chatting about Ghosts.....a few minutes later......on the highway...they saw a women, wrapped in a red shawl.....the employee told that may be she is a ghost....the driver mused on him.....a few moments later they saw the same women sitting in the back seat...the car tripped over and both of them died"......now I wonder who told him the story....coz out of three persons, involved....two died and one was Ghost.....that scares me!

I am thinking of changing my newspaper again, The Hindu was atleast better in terms of content and you felt like reading it, TOI...bores, except for the "Animal Crackers".....I dont like anything and today's editorial that Hindus and Corporates (Obviously Hindu dominated) are doing nothing for Kashmir earthquake and after Delhi's blasts the situation have worsened, in terms of giving relief..I dont rememeber the name who wrote this editorial.....but I feel that people like him, who call themselves the educated gentry', help in broadening the rift between communities, may somebody ask him that though its known Kashmir is Muslim dominated but is he sure that earthquake didn't damaged Hindu households, even the same paper reported that lots of funds have been used by officials for personal gains were they all Hindus.....people like him and of his breed like Gilani should be banished from society....I better choose militants rather than those who play hide and seek. I wonder why he forgot that we did gave huge aids to Pakistan, which is an Islamic republic.....wont it would have been much better had he critcized the govt. for this rather than his own countrymen.....

Again about 'T'.....I was thinking of messaging her but than restrained myself.....thought why? couldn't find any answer and than the thought of not getting a messgae in response got me irritated in the begining itself.....I dont know whether she will understand me ever....I dont think so, She is successful and I have nothing to give except my heart! But still, just want to talk to her, I have no clues how.....cant we just start as Friends?
On that note a very old poem of mine that I wrote last year when N was leaving for IMA....found while cleaning my suitcase.......and realised that I am still drenched by memories of past.....looking for future......unsuccessfully........

Lying on my bed
with a future uncertain,
My dearest pal
got to catch a train,
I think I have got something to say
but perhaps not this way,
The sky is all wet now
its October rain somehow,


Changes were fast
now its time to part,
Memories suddenly come to life
smiles buzzes like honey flies,
The droplets are falling in rhythm
I am still waiting for frogs to hymn,
Her hairs were black like a monsoon night
dont know if her face still sparkles like sunlight,
I really have got something to say
but perhaps not this way,
The sky is all wet now
its October rain somehow,


Dont drop a tear thy
it’s going to cost me high.
I still have to wait long
for my journey is an eternal song
Things dont remain same
bet she still loves hearing my name,
I must have got something to say
but perhaps not this way,
The sky is all wet now
its October rain somehow,


The rain isnt cold
I am feeling warmth untold,
Something’s do never change
doesn’t even weather repeat its own range?
As people move faster to beat the rain
HE starts playing his own game,
I do got something still to say
but perhaps not this way,
The sky is all wet now
its October rain somehow....

Deafening Silence'

Well, the past few days were really straight and me so inconsistent in approach that there is nothing to much to ponder or write upon. Life becomes so monotonous that even if you try viewing it from different outlooks it remains the same. Sometimes I wonder that we unknowingly spend a large part of life in blissful unawareness!

Though in my official life there has been a major upheaval, most of my team members resigned over the Diwali holiday debacle’ and me who worked on Diwali is ready for doing an overtime, tomorrow, coz I will get $ 4@hr.
Now all of them who resigned were employees who had shown enough loyalty to the company and rightfully deserved a holiday, since I am new and had no good reason to celebrate Diwali or take a leave coz in this short span of 03 months as I have not accumulated any complaints against the management ( which I believe I will when I am as old as they are in company) worked and I explained them my point of view.

So the next day, they were asked to resign and I was asked to do an overtime, to which both agreed. But I felt my fellow employees were right as last Diwali they told me 'they had worked wearing black bands on their hand', so consequentially this year resignation was the next step. Who was unsuccessful here, they to retain their job or company to retain employees, I don’t know…..

In the past few months, around my locale, an elderly couple, have started selling ‘boiled eggs’ in a corner, the gleam in their eyes, when they see someone walking towards them, makes me buy eggs from them each day….I wonder if this is an another unsuccessful attempt from my side to help the society……or just the dog who ravishes what I leave, blesses me from his heart!

Now this is about ‘T’……a few days ago we met, she came to my workplace…a day before Diwali…..Well once again both of us saw each other and tried to evade, also if I am not wrong there was a moment when I was looking for her and perhaps she for me…when our eyes met. Than I decided that rather than bearing this ‘Deafening Silence’, I should go and talk to her…..so here is the script, and as usual I will not infer anything……..

Me - Hi Mam, how are you?
T - Good, how it’s going? *as we shake hands, a bit in a cold manner*
Me - Good!, A ( an another guy) was angry with you, you didn’t meet him
T – I know, I had a word with him
***She turns towards A and say Are you still angry? A nods head***
Me - Thts why I told A
T – What?
Me - Milte to begano (others) se hain, apne to vaise he dil ke pass hote hein, right?
T - **laughs** Very right, good one
Me - Ok than, cya
T - **nods her head**

Later I messaged her ‘………..and the night sparkled. Happy Diwali’. and as usual my cell phone is still waiting for a message from her, both me and my cell wondering at this Deafening Silence’...heights of unsuccessfulness....